Protector
by Anna-Jay
Summary: While searching the house of the recent attack from a cannibalistic killer, Will finds an injured and emotionally scarred boy with his dead sister in his arms. The boy, Hannibal Lecter, is given to Will for him to keep an eye on as well as protect. The killer knows he has loose ends and has set his sights on him. However, he's going to have a hard time getting through Will Graham.
1. Chapter 1

The scene was horrific. The basement floor was covered in blood and limbs, some of the body parts appearing to be gnawed upon or sliced open. There was no direct method to the killer's motives with some of the bodies appearing to be neatly sliced with organs missing while others were hacked and torn apart. The smell of decomposing bodies was over powering causing many FBI agents to leave the scene. Agent Will Graham was all too familiar with these kinds of murders, his mind easily slipping into the killer's mind to try and track a method to his madness. Unfortunately, he had been on the case for weeks and wasn't any closer to the figuring out the cannibalistic killer than when he started.

Will blinked and came back into his own mind, rubbing at his eyes as he attempted sort out the new information and figure out what could be of use. It wasn't much. He listened as agents walked around upstairs and gathered evidence and move bodies to be taken to autopsy. Will hoped they could ID some of the victims so their families could have some solace. He glanced around the room once more before turning to Jack Crawford, who was looking at him expectantly. As Will shook his head, Crawford became angry.

"Will this is the fourth family we've found and we aren't any closer to finding him," Crawford snapped. "Are you even trying?" It was Will's turn to snarl, hands curling into fists.

"It's not my fault I can't get a read, Jack. I'm not a psychic. I get what I can from the crime scenes. He leaves little for me to pick up on even though his methods are messy and inconsistent." Will had been over every possibility. The killer was either a butcher or a surgeon, for the cuts that were made to take out delicate organs were done with a precise hand. However they couldn't find anyone who matched anything Will suggested. Everyone on the team were at their wits end with this case and right now all Will wanted was to be able to go home and sleep in the safety of his dogs.

Crawford gave Will one last glare before storming off upstairs, barking orders at anyone who was within ear shot. Will sighed and rubbed his eyes once more. He was left alone in the basement, the stench finally getting to him. He began to make his way back up to the main floor when a noise caught his attention. Drawing his gun, he crept toward the sound and found himself standing by a water furnace. Puzzled, Will tapped along the wall before feeling an odd protrusion in the wall. Taking his flashlight out, he discovered that it was a discrete lever, leading to a secret room. Before he could think about what he was doing, Will opened the door and was bombarded with the fresh stench of blood. Staggering back, Will readied his gun in case the killer was in there, but quickly lowered it at what he saw.

Sitting in a pool of blood was a little boy of no more than seven or eight years. His eyes were wide, his body shaking and quaking under Will's gaze. In his arms lay a limp and hacked body of a little girl, her blond hair streaked with blood.

Will gasped at the sight and stepped forward to help the boy, but retreated when the boy flinched back, clutching at the body protectively. Will dropped to his knees, holstering his gun and setting his flashlight on the ground. He raised his hands slowly in a pacifying manner and slumped his shoulders in, making himself appear defenseless and non aggressive.

"Hey there," Will spoke, his voice soft and coaxing. He held his palms face up, showing there was nothing in them and held them out as if the boy was a stray dog he was trying to ease and sooth. The boy still flinched as Will's hands got closer, but his shoulders were relaxed. Will hypothesized the boy thought he was the killer coming to finish the job and now he saw it was just a stranger he was calmer. However, not by much. "I'm not going to hurt you. My name is Agent Will Graham. I work for the FBI. You are going into shock and need to be treated. Will you let me approach you?"

The boy continued to stare at Will with owlish eyes, his brown eyes staring directly into Will's blue. Will was surprised eye contact with the boy wasn't making him as uncomfortable as it should have, but he chalked it up to the fact this was a child and was in need of help. He waited for the boy to give a sign he understood and would allow him to come closer, but the boy remained still. A few moments passed before tears came to the boy's eyes. His lips moved and Will had to strain his ears to hear what the boy was saying.

"M...Mischa." Was all the boy uttered, clutching the body of the little girl to his chest. Will's heart shattered as he watched as the boy broke eye contact and looked at the girl. He gently shook her as if to wake her, but the girl continued to lay limply in his lap. The boy continued to call to the girl, occasionally speaking sentences in another language, but his efforts were in vain. Will didn't know what to do as he watched as the boy began to break down, his shock ebbing away and the horrors of reality catching up with him. Hesitantly, Will placed a hand on the boy's trembling shoulder.

The boy violently jerked out of his grasp and Will took his hand back, but soon found himself with the boy and the dead girl in his lap. The boy held on desperately to the girl with one hand and Will's jacket with the other. He continued to babble in another language, the only word Will was able to make out was "Mischa". Will wrapped his arms around the boy, holding him steady as he sobbed and gently rocked him. He was so focused on helping the boy he barely made out the sounds of feet running down the stairs to his location. He twisted enough to look over his shoulder as Crawford and some others from his team stood a few feet away, stunned at what they saw.

Crawford was the first to break the momentary paralysis, "Get a paramedic!" and within minutes the paramedics arrived with a stretcher to take the boy to the ambulance. When they tried to take the boy from Will's arms, he screamed and held tighter, burying his face into Will's chest. Will held his hand up for the paramedic to back up a little before addressing the distressed child.

"Shh, shh, it's okay. It's okay. I need you to do something for me okay?" The child raised his head and looked at Will, his eyes watery and red. Will realized that even though he spoke in another language, he could understand Will perfectly. "I need you to go with the paramedic. They are good people. They are going to fix you up and take you to the hospital."

The child shook his head, his gaze going from Will, the paramedic, to the girl, and finally back to Will. "Will you go with them if I come along?" The child quickly nodded and clung to the girl as Will hoisted both of them up and onto the stretcher. However, things became problematic again when someone tried to take the girl away.

"Ne! Ji lieka!"

Will gently hushed and calmed him down once more before reasoning with him. "She needs help too. She'll be going with us, but on a different stretcher, okay? They need to help you first before anything can be done for her." Will felt terrible. He knew by saying this he was getting the boy's hopes up that the girl would make it alive, but he had a suspicion that the boy was aware she was dead, but in his shock he was trying to deny it. The boy blinked at Will a few times before letting out a sob and relinquishing the girl to another agent. He watched as she was taken away before his eyes drooped and his collapsed onto the stretcher.

Will followed the paramedics to the ambulance and was about to get in when Crawford called to him. "I'll meet you at the hospital."

Will nodded before climbing in, taking hold of the boy's hand as the ambulance pulled away from the crime scene.


	2. Chapter 2

"The house belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Alekna, and we have just been informed that the family visiting them were the Lecters. Both families were from Lithuania with the Lecters visiting the Aleknas for a couple weeks," Crawford began, looking through sheets of paper and pictures of the victims. Will and Beverly stood around the desk, looking at the pictures as well. "Both families were murdered, the boy was the only survivor."

"Hannibal Lecter," Will muttered, his eyes still on the pictures. It had been a few days since the massacre and Will spent most of his time sitting by the boy's side. When he had finally come to, he was much calmer, but he wouldn't speak. Will managed to get a name out of him before he completely went silent.

"Correct. Hannibal is our only witness to what happened that night. It is likely he saw who our killer was before he went into hiding. However," Jack leaned back in his chair, a troubled look crossing his features. "because he has stopped talking, and media has been informed of there being one survivor, the killer might come back to finish the job. Hannibal needs to watched and kept hidden until he starts talking again."

"Does he have family back home?" Beverly asked.

"No, but he does have family in France. We have sent word out to them, but they have not responded." Jack replied. "In any case, he cannot leave the States. He's a witness."

There was a long pause before Beverly broke it. "Where's he going to stay?" She looked up at Will. "He can't stay in the hospital. It would be too dangerous; easy prey for the killer."

"He could stay with Dr. Alana Bloom," Jack said. "She's a psychiatrist and could help him get over the loss of his family as well as coax him into talking again."

"No, that won't work," Will spoke, adjusting his glasses. "She'll be out of town for the next three weeks."

Jack let out a huff before rubbing his eyes. It had been a tiring couple days. There were absolutely no leads to whereabouts of the killer, and Hannibal wasn't talking. The times Will was by his side the boy refused to sleep, simply staring off into space while Will tried to communicate with him. He'd first questioned him about what happened in the basement, but he soon backtracked when Hannibal began to shake. He'd asked him about his favorite things which soon turned into any question.

Do you like sports? What's Lithuania like? Is it pretty? How do you like America?

But Hannibal wouldn't answer to anything.

After that Will simply sat in the chair next to the bed, reading a book or lightly dozing. He caught Hannibal looking at him a couple times, his big, brown eyes boring into his with such intensity he had to look away. When he looked back the boy was back to looking off into space.

Jack brought Will out of his thoughts when the man sighed. He looked at his desk before looking up at him. They shared a moment before Will shook his head.

"No." He looked at Beverly, but she was giving him pleading look. "No. I'm not good with kids. I can barely take care of myself, let alone be responsible for a child."

"But you own dogs," Jack reasoned. "You take good care of your dogs, Will. This will be no different."

"Taking care of a dog is very different than taking care of a small human being, Jack." Will grounded out, raking his fingers through his hair. "What am I supposed to do with him when I have to go to work? I can't leave him alone and I can't take him with me."

"I'll give you paid leave if you take him." Jack offered, hands clenching into fists. "Will, I need you to do this. You have been around Hannibal the most, gotten to know him the most." Will snorted, eyes narrowing.

"'Gotten to know him the most'. Jack, he doesn't talk. The only thing he's said to be have been the name of his sister and his own." Will crossed his arms, avoiding eye contact with both Jack and Beverly. "Besides, don't you need me to help catch the killer?"

"You would be helping us catch him by making Hannibal talk," Jack said. "Hannibal is our only witness, Will. He could have seen something. Out of everybody here, he'd trust you the most."

"Will, please." Beverly pleaded, her hand resting lightly on Will's arm. Will flinched at the contact, but didn't try to remove her arm. There was a long pause before Will sighed.

"Fine."

–

Will had tried to make his home look presentable, scrubbing and cleaning the floors and counters; trying to make the smell of dog less noticeable. However, when he brought Hannibal from the hospital he saw his little nose wrinkle in distaste and knew it was a lost cause.

"Well, this is my home," Will said, feeling more and more idiotic as he walked around the kitchen, pulling out a chair for Hannibal. He had put the dogs in the living room, not wanting to overwhelm the boy with five dogs rushing to greet their new housemate. He had warned him before he took him home that he had dogs, but Hannibal didn't seem to mind, but now with him here he wasn't so sure what Hannibal would think.

"Do you like dogs?" Will asked, hopeful that this would elicit a response.

Hannibal remained unmoving. Will let out a sigh before turning to the fridge and pulling out some items to make food.

"I'm not sure what you like, but I have lots of fish. I catch them myself," He added, turning to the boy with a smile. "Have you ever fished?"

Hannibal blinked.

"Well, if you want I can take you fishing sometime," Will said, looking away as the boy's stare became uncomfortable. "It might be boring for you, but I find it relaxing. To be able to be out in nature, away from all the people." He sighed wistfully, turning back to making food. He figured he'd make grilled salmon; it was easy and it was one of the only dishes he could make without it looking like a jumbled mess.

The kitchen fell into silence, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as Will first thought it would be. He listened to the crickets outside as he prepared the fish to be put on the grill; the clicking of the dogs' nails in the next room with their occasional whimpering adding to the noise; and the slight shuffle Hannibal made when he got off the chair and walked to his side. Will looked down at him, a smile on his face.

"Would you like to help me, Hannibal?" he asked. The boy slowly nodded causing Will's smile to grow. "If you would like you can clean the vegetables, but wash your hands first."

After a while they fell into a rhythm: Will would cut the meat and take it outside to put on the grill while Hannibal cleaned vegetables, standing on a chair so he could reach the counter. When Hannibal finished, he looked at Will for something else to do. Because Will didn't feel it would be safe to give Hannibal a knife, he took over the duty of preparing the vegetables while he had Hannibal set the table. There wasn't much to set, or so Will thought. When he turned to see how Hannibal was doing, he saw the boy had set two plates, two pairs of forks, two knives, and one spoon for each of them. Will watched how he arranged them, making sure they were even and looked perfect. It took Will a moment before he remembered that the Lecters were wealthy, and Hannibal either had watched the family butler or had been shown how to set a table properly.

Hannibal looked up when he was done, his face perfectly blank.

"Wow, it looks amazing, Hannibal," Will said, wonder in his voice. "You did a good job."

Will watched for the first time as a small smile graced Hannibal's features.

–

Hannibal watched Will as the man fed his dogs, his legs drawn up to his chest. The dogs had done exactly what Will feared they would do and practically leapt onto the boy when they were released from their banishment in the living room. Hannibal tried not to look fazed, but Will could tell the boy was scared once he wrangled them back.

"They're good dogs," Will told him, patting each dog on the head once they had calmed down. "They just get a little excited around new people. Have you ever had a dog, Hannibal?"

The boy shook his head, eyes trained on the dogs as if waiting for them to attack. Will sighed before grabbing a food bag and walking into the living room, the dogs trailing after him. After a moment, Hannibal followed.

Now that the dogs had calmed down and had food in their stomachs Hannibal found himself reaching out and stroking one of the dogs as she walked by the couch. The dog kept moving and was soon out of the boy's reach as she plopped down on her spot on the floor. Will watched as a small pout came across his features. Will chuckled and sat next to him.

"Not so scary once they calm down, aren't they?" Will questioned, draping his arm on the back of the couch. Hannibal shook his head, eyes narrowed as if he could silently command the dog to come back. The dog yawned in response before closing her eyes.

Will smiled and held a hand out to a young Goldie who came to sit next to him. The dog nudged his hand, demanding that he be pet. As he pet the dog, he felt Hannibal press closer to him. Glancing his way, he watched as the boy looked at the dog, his left hand hovering in the air as if he wanted to reach out and pet the dog too. Will pet the dog a couple more times before moving the hand away, closer to where Hannibal was. The dog, not pleased he wasn't being pet anymore, moved closer and gently nipped at Will's hand. Will resumed his petting and waited patiently as Hannibal's hand came closer to the dog, stroking the muzzle. Will removed his hand and Hannibal took over, fingers running through the soft yellow fur.

Will smiled at the scene before leaning back into the couch, closing his eyes to enjoy the peacefulness. However, his eyes soon shot back open when Hannibal let out a strange noise before launching himself back again him.

"What's wrong?" He asked, eyes looking back and forth between the boy and the dog. The dog had his head cocked to the side, tongue hanging out while Hannibal was holding his hand to his chest defensively. "Did Simon bite you? Let me look." Will gently pried Hannibal's arm away from his chest and inspected the limb. There were no red marks or bite marks, but the hand was covered in a thin layer of sticky saliva. Will let out a sigh of relief.

"He only licked you?" Hannibal nodded, his nose wrinkling in disgust and glaring at Simon. The dog stared back, tail thumping against the floor. Will inwardly smiled before standing. "Come on, lets get you cleaned up."

"I see he also managed to get your face too," Will joked as he rubbed a washcloth along Hannibal's arm and face. The boy pouted before giving a small smile as Will gently poked his nose with the washcloth. Will smiled and continued to scrub Hannibal's arm, but suddenly paused. He hadn't looked at the boy's hands before, but holding them now he noticed one hand had one too many fingers.

"You have polydactylism," he wondered, running his fingers over Hannibal's left hand. Usually, when someone had polydactylism they had an extra pinky, or in other cases an extra thumb. Instead Hannibal had an two middle fingers on his left hand. It looked so natural as if having six fingers was what the human hand was supposed to have.

Hannibal ripped his hand from Will's grasp, hiding it behind his back. He had a look of fear, eyes refusing to meet Will's.

_How many times have you been teased?_ Will wondered. _How many times have you been bullied for your extra finger?_

Slowly reaching out, Will rested his hand on Hannibal's head, fingers treading through the brown locks. The boy remained stiff, but slowly relaxed as Will continued.

"There is nothing wrong with your hand," Will quietly said, fingers trailing down to rub his neck. "You just have more fingers to feel those around you." Hannibal looked up at that, his brown eyes wide and curious. This close, Will could see his eyes weren't just brown, but a deep maroon. Will also saw the dark circles underneath, telling of sleepless night and the possibility of endless nightmares. Will felt a pang of sympathy for the boy, having no idea how to comfort him through this ordeal. When Hannibal continued to stare with wide eyes, Will sighed and stood up.

"Come on, lets get you to bed."

–

"Hannibal, you need to sleep." Will scolded, arms crossing his chest as the boy shook his head defiantly. Will had put Hannibal to bed hours ago, but when he came by the guest room and saw the light was still on with the boy sleepily pacing the room Will decided he needed to intervene.

Hannibal pointed at him, which confused Will before he figured out the meaning.

"I'm awake because I don't need as much sleep," Will reasoned. Granted, the reason he wasn't sleeping was probably the same as Hannibal's: No sleep meant no nightmares. "You, on the other hand, are a child and require more sleep than I do. Plus, you've gone through a traumatic experience. Sleep will help."

Hannibal once again shook his head with such ferocity Will worried he would become dizzy. The too stood off, daring the other to look away first. Will immediately felt uncomfortable, but he withheld, brows furrowing in irritation. Hannibal seemed shocked that Will wasn't looking away. He must have picked up Will's distaste for keeping eye contact. After a few more minutes it was Hannibal who broke it off, shutting his eyes tightly as a yawn escaped his mouth. Will faintly smiled before guiding Hannibal back to the bed.

"How about this," He bargained. "I'll stay with you until you fall asleep?"

Hannibal continued to look away, but nodded. He climbed underneath the blankets while Will sat next to him on the bed. For awhile Hannibal refused to close his eyes, staring owlishly in the distance. Will slowly brought his hand up and trailed his fingers across Hannibal's forehead. The boy's eyes briefly widened before sinking shut, leaning into the touch in such a way Will thought he might have done it unconsciously. Will kept up his ministrations until Hannibal was completely limp, his breathing even and steady. Staying a few more minutes, Will got up and quietly snuck to his room, leaving the hall light on in case Hannibal needed to get up at some point in the night.

Not quite ready to go to sleep, Will took out the book he had been reading before discovering Hannibal was still awake and continued from where he left off. He figured he'd read until he finished, which would maybe take about an hour. Fifteen minutes later Will was sound asleep, head resting gently on his chest.

–

_Drip, drip, drip. _

_ The body strapped to the table was still gushing blood even after the occupant had long since left the world of the living. Will stood above her, hands deep within her body. Her liver would make a nice dish, he thought. Or perhaps he could use her intestines as well. There were so many decisions, so little time. _

_ This was his design. _

_ He already disposed of the husband and the other occupants of the house, but he felt he was missing someone. Someone small, someone defenseless. _

_ Will abandoned the woman on the table and proceeded around the room, searching every nook and cranny for the child he was sure was part of the family. There was another, but she was too easy to catch, too easy to kill. This one hid, this one would be a treat to capture. _

_ Licking the blood off his hands, Will spotted a bloody hand print on the wall. It was small, a perfect match for his prey. Looking over the wall, Will spotted the lever that would open the door and yanked on it. _

_ A small gasp was heard and inside sat a little boy. Will smiled, holding the knife in his hand higher. _

_ "I found you, little pet." _

_ The boy screamed even before Will brought the knife down upon his flesh, the wet shlicking sound echoing throughout the room. Even when he was finished, the boy kept screaming._

_ And screaming._

_ And screaming..._

Will jolted awake, the book falling out of his hands as he jumped out of bed and ran to Hannibal's room. The boy screamed louder when Will entered, only seeing a man's silhouette, and huddled further into the corner of the bed. Will snapped on the overhead light and gently shushed Hannibal, walking over to the bed and sitting at the edge.

"It's okay, Hannibal," he whispered. "It's just me. It's me, Will Graham. Remember? You are not dreaming anymore. You're awake." Will didn't reach out, keeping his hands firmly at his sides. He had no idea where Hannibal's mind was at this current moment and could lash out. He didn't want to cause anymore unneeded stress to the boy's fragile state.

Hannibal stopped screaming, his breathing uneven and his eyes darting around the room. He was searching for something, the monster from his dream perhaps. However, Will soon realized he was looking for something far more precious as he leapt from the bed and scoured the room, his breathing becoming more and more uneven.

"She's not here, Hannibal," Will whispered, but Hannibal continued his searching. He was muttering to himself in Lithuanian, the words jumbling over each other with only one word Will was able to make out. "Mischa is not here, Hannibal."

Hannibal finally looked up, shaking his head before looking around the room again. He finally collapsed to the ground and broke down into tears. Will rushed to his side, still unsure if he should touch him. Hannibal made the decision for him and fell into his arms, just as he had done when Will found him at the crime scene. Will held tightly to him, letting Hannibal cry his heart out. There weren't any neighbors for him to disturb, so Will let him continue to scream and cry.

When all of his adrenalin drained from his small body, Hannibal rested limply against the bigger body, head resting at the junction of Will's neck and shoulder. Will stroked his back, making soothing noises and nonsensical words he hoped would help Hannibal calm down.

He almost missed it when Hannibal whispered: "...They're all gone."

"Yes," Will whispered back. "I'm sorry you had to go through this,"

Hannibal was silent once again and snuggled deeper into Will's chest.

"... Please don't leave tonight, Mr. Graham." Hannibal pleaded, his tiny voice breaking as the tears came back. Will clutched him tighter to his person.

"Don't worry, I won't let him hurt you." Going as slow as possible, Will picked up Hannibal and deposited him onto the bed once more. He untangled himself from the boy's grasp, hushing him when Hannibal made a whimpering noise before shutting the bedroom light off. He kept the door open, allowing the hall light to illuminate part of the bedroom floor and wall. Crawling in next to Hannibal, Will made sure the blankets were covering both of them before wrapping Hannibal back into his embrace. The boy welcomed it and cuddled close, his head curled just underneath Will's chin. Despite the dreams they both went through that night, they soon succumbed to sleep wrapped up in each others' arms.


End file.
